


good things come.

by anoetic



Series: tenderness challenge. [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Love, M/M, Tenderness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 01:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14945085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoetic/pseuds/anoetic
Summary: being in love is a lot better, a lot simpler when it's with dean.





	good things come.

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a sweet, little piece that i'm planning a sequel to quite soon. a love that's patient, a love that's easy and without all that blood and teeth suits these two so well.

first--

It's easy going, no drama or worries. Dean with his dry, carefree and unbothered attitude and comfort in who he is. It startles Roman, who is a little more careful with things, his words, his time, but somehow still it interests him which is new and newness can be scary. What a wonder their first class of the semester happens to be the same one? Roman finds Dean’s calm a little intimidating, a little different and he comes to like it. They come to like each other.

Dean isn’t impatient, isn’t all that selfish though he would like the big guy all to himself. They grow to love learning about one another, every conversation between them cool and free of pressure to reveal or disclose anything. It’s just two people who want to know each other for the sake of knowing each other which is pretty fucking rare these days. Dean’s flick of the wrist, smoked down to the cigarette butt, cool guy personality meshes well with Roman’s gentle giant with a gentle heart one and that brings a smile to Roman’s face.

He likes Dean.

He likes him a whole lot, but what about this love thing? That’s another new scary thing he’s not sure he’s ready to face, but then he remembers last night at the front of Roman’s dorm room Dean’s hand on his shoulder, an understanding smile on Dean’s wonderfully familiar face. “Hey, we work on _your_ time, big guy,” he assures him and that’s a relief.

Dean is such a relief.

He makes this first love thing a whole lot easier, a whole lot better.

 

second--

Or better yet that one _not quite ready to call it that yet_ date where Dean called Roman, wanting to know if Roman would like to come over to his apartment for the evening. “I get the feeling you’re a Netflix and chill kinda guy,” Dean grins over the phone as he kicks his feet up on his couch, testing his luck. Roman, of course, accepts the invitation with a smile already closing the door to his dorm room behind him as he asks Dean to text him the address.

It’s so easy being with Dean, Roman thinks as they’re sitting on Dean’s bed in the dim, light blue haze of Dean’s laptop. He likes how kind Dean is, how understanding he is, how lovingly patient he is with all of this, with all of him.

This is easy. Loving Dean is so wonderfully, beautifully easy.

Dean doesn’t flinch when Roman rests his cheek against Dean’s thigh, doesn’t question the intention or take advantage of it. Instead he looks down from the screen at his soon to be and smiles, lifting a hand to smooth his fingers through pretty, black hair. “Comfortable, big guy?” he asks, gentle voiced and kind. Roman nods, butterflies there and there and there and his eyes drift shut, knees pulled close to his chest. “Yeah. ’m good, Dean,” he replies in that soft, sleepy mumble and that’s enough for the night, Dean’s fingers still delicately tangling themselves in Roman’s hair. The feeling stirs something warm in Roman’s chest and he realizes that he’s right where he needs to be, here in this simple, tender space together with Dean.

It’s mutually understood that Roman is staying over until the morning. They both have class tomorrow but being late one time won’t kill them. This is worth it anyway. Roman is worth it. Waking up to him is worth it, Dean believes with absolute certainty.

He’s right.

 

third--

Dean doesn’t mind that Roman wants to take this a day at a time. He appreciates Roman’s temperance, his cautiousness and it only strengthens Dean’s desire to make whatever this is between them a good thing, no, the best thing for Roman, for both of them. Dean is confident that he’s been doing well with that, being mindful of Roman’s boundaries, watching his words and flirtations, always allowing Roman the freedom to initiate any sort of physical contact between them. Dean is fine with giving Roman all the space he needs for this, this little love thing they’ve got going on. Roman always welcomes Dean’s offers to hang out together after classes or work, happy to make time to see his closest friend.

Dean finds happiness to be a really good look on Roman these days.

Today is Saturday and surprisingly, Roman was the one to reach out for a change, Dean’s phone ringing ceremoniously under the pillow next to him as he’s jolted awake, a fiery slew of words already bubbling like venom on his tongue before he glances at the caller id, the anger stamped out as suddenly as it arrived.

“Fuck, you know what time it is, you asshole?” he grounds out with a tired grin, the start of a chuckle following softly behind. He catches a light hearted laugh on the other end and he slaps a hand to his face, closing his eyes with a laugh of his own, tenderness warm between the two men.

He’s in love, he’s sure. Stupidly, pleasantly in love.

“Time for you to spend the day with me,” is the playful order of the day of which Dean is all too pleased to oblige, sitting up on the edge of the bed now as he promises Roman that he’ll meet him on campus in fifteen, no, ten. Another drop of laughter like honey from Roman then, _shit what a fucking gorgeous sound_  Dean thinks with butterflies all a flutter and heart beating wild, and then the call ends, leaving him alone and dizzy with love. Dean groans, rubbing the heel of his hands in his eyes, lips still caught in the curl of a smile, honest and blushing.

“Fuck, I’m in trouble,” he confesses into the air, marveling at how deeply he’s found himself in this delightfully confusing situation, at how he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Who knew that love would be this much fun?


End file.
